And That's Why I Hate That Class
by My Dear Professor McGonagall
Summary: It's something of an unspoken rule that every Hogwarts student who passes through the castle will find at least one class at Hogwarts that they really, really just cannot stand. For Harry, it was Potions. For Hermione, it was Divination. But what about some of their classmates? Second place in Quintessential Dreams' "Ten" Competition.
1. Quidditch: Hannah Abbott

30 September 1991 – Quidditch

Just like her mother, Hannah Abbott had a horrible fear of flying. And so, when she, along with all of the other first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, were summoned out to the front lawn one morning in early September, she was understandably miserable.

"Don't worry, Hannah," Susan Bones told her kindly. "It's not like we're trying out for the Quidditch team or anything. We just need a few lessons for safety."

"I know," Hannah mumbled, nervously twirling the end of her pigtail as they lined up before a row of broomsticks.

Ernie Macmillan stepped up on Hannah's other side. "I think this is going to be great fun," he said. Hannah rolled her eyes. Ernie was nice, but he could be very pompous.

"All right!" Madam Hooch called. "That's enough, quiet down, now. Welcome to your first flying lesson."

Hannah was sure she was going to be sick. Her heart started racing, and her mouth went dry. She could see Madam Hooch's lips moving, but couldn't hear the words over the pounding in her own ears. All Hannah could think about was that in a minute, she was going to be on a broomstick, and her feet were _not_ going to be on the ground.

What if she just kept rising up, and couldn't come back down? What if she fell? People died falling from broomsticks! She didn't know how to use her wand to stop herself. If she fell, there would be nothing to stop her from breaking every bone in her body.

"Miss Abbott, are you listening?"

Madam Hooch was standing over her, looking worried. Hannah could feel clammy sweat building on her neck and face, and she felt dizzy.

"Get your broom up, Miss Abbott," said Madam Hooch.

Hannah fainted.

She woke up on a bed in the hospital wing with a cold compress on her forehead. Susan sat at her bedside.

"Hi," said Hannah, feeling herself blush.

Susan smiled and patted her hand. "You're all right, Hannah," she said. "Don't worry, everything's fine."

Hannah looked away as tears of humiliation stung her eyes.

"Miss Abbott," said Madam Pomfrey, bustling over to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thank you, ma'am," Hannah murmured, determinedly avoiding looking at Susan with her tear-filled eyes.

"You're not the first to have trouble with flying, dear, Mr. Longbottom's already been here," Madam Pomfrey said kindly. "You're very fortunate to have a friend like Miss Bones, you know. She's been waiting here with you for nearly an hour." Hannah glanced at Susan, who smiled. "Just rest here quietly for a moment," Madam Pomfrey said. "You can go to dinner soon."

Hannah nodded as the matron walked off down the ward. Then she turned to Susan. "You didn't have to wait with me," she said apologetically. "I would've been all right. You should've stayed and learned to fly."

Susan shrugged. Then, suddenly, she leaned forward. "Do you want to know a secret?" she whispered. Hannah frowned. "I'm terrified of flying, too."

* * *

><p>Hurray! Another big project done. For Quintessential Dreams' "Ten" Competition. I was given ten characters and ten prompts. Each of these ten chapters (I'll do one per day, unless you want more? I'm willing to be flexible on updates for this, actually...) is 500 words apiece. In them, you'll be told who the character is (probably in the summary if not the first line) and the prompt (up next to the date). In addition, as a fun added bonus, each chapter will have the character's best friend and their future spouse (teehee).<p>

Every chapter tells the story of the character's least favorite day/class/teacher at Hogwarts. XD I hope you like it!

Lucy

_Just as a side note, the main reason I'm even able to share these stories with you all is because I own my Mac laptop. Say what you like about the product, that's not why I'm bringing it up, but I have to just share my gratitude for the man who invented the technology I've been lucky enough to grow up alongside and use to express my own creativity. Thank you, Steve Jobs. You're an inspirational man._


	2. Cacophony: Daphne Greengrass

15 October 1992 – Cacophony

"Yours looks good," Daphne said, smiling gently and nodding at Theo Nott's cauldron on the table beside hers.

Theo gave a small smile, pushing his hair out of his eyes and adding a few drops of flobberworm mucus to his Swelling Solution. He'd gotten very tall over the summer, Daphne had noticed, and though he was still very shy and quiet, he seemed to still be the kind, wonderful boy she'd gotten to know last year.

"Theo, I was wondering if—well, maybe you and I could have dinner together in the Great Hall?" she asked. "We ought to catch up."

Theo smiled again. "I'd like that, Daphne," he said quietly.

BANG!

Daphne threw herself flat on the floor; a few tables in front of her, Gregory Goyle's potion exploded all over the dungeon. She heard Pansy and Millicent shrieking and yelling.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Professor Snape barked over the cacophony of squeals of pain. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft—when I find out who did this—"

Daphne slowly got up from the floor, careful to avoid touching the puddles of potion on the tabletop. It didn't seem that the potion had hit her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked over to Theo and gasped. His face looked horribly swollen and painful.

"Oh, Theo," Daphne said. "Are—are you—"

Theo didn't seem to hear her, but hurried forward, his face buried in his hands. Daphne felt anger bubble up inside her, and whirled around to glare at the Gryffindors, who were laughing hysterically. It was one of them, she could tell—her eyes skimmed over them, her gaze fierce.

These stupid Gryffindors were the only reason she hated Potions. They were loud, obnoxious, and always positive that they were in the right. Well, now look what they'd done!

She turned and looked at Theo, who was taking a drink of a bright violet potion as his face returned to its normal size. He trudged back to their table.

"Are you all right?" Daphne asked. Theo nodded, not looking at her. "It was one of the—"

A hush had fallen over the classroom. All eyes were on Professor Snape, who stood at Goyle's cauldron, holding up a burnt, blackened, and twisted bit of something. It looked vaguely like a firecracker. Daphne frowned.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Professor Snape said, in a dangerously low voice, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

Daphne looked over her shoulder to the Gryffindors, glowering angrily, until she noticed that Theo had already started packing up his books.

"Theo—wait, are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Theo mumbled, and as soon as the bell sounded, he bolted from the classroom, his face bright red.

Now thoroughly upset, both at herself and at the idiocy of her classmates, Daphne couldn't resist treading on Parvati Patil's foot as she shoved past the crowd of Gryffindors leaving the dungeon.


	3. Quagmire: Draco Malfoy

13 November 1994 – Quagmire

"I hate this class," Draco mumbled. He nudged Goyle so that he moved to another desk, and Draco dumped himself into the seat beside Crabbe, who grunted.

"Draco, you're not going to sit with me?" asked a simpering voice, and Draco repressed a shudder.

"Not today, Parkinson," he said, and Pansy put on a pout.

"But—"

"Not—today," Draco hissed, and Pansy, still pouting, sat down across the aisle. When he was sure she was looking, Draco ran a hand through his hair and sat back, tugging his necktie down a bit and switching his _POTTER STINKS_ badge to his outer robes.

"Pass up the homework, please," called Professor McGonagall from the front of the classroom. "Quickly, quickly, we're continuing on Switching Spells, and some of you need the practice."

"Like we're ever _really_ going to need this," Draco grumbled.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have some objection?" barked McGonagall, pressing her lips together. Draco said nothing. She looked especially angry today. "Good."

Thankfully, it wasn't a double period, and Draco managed to get away with only performing the spell a few times, though he was uncomfortably aware of McGonagall's eyes on him. To put her off, he prodded his potted daisy, Switching a few petals of the yellow flower with the white, and sat back again, twirling his wand. At last the bell rang, and Draco stuffed his books away into his bag. He was just forcing his way to the classroom door when he heard it.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word please."

McGonagall's voice was loud enough that Draco couldn't pretend he hadn't heard. He turned around the Gryffindors passed. Draco sneered at Potter and pressed the badge on his chest.

"Mr. Malfoy! Now, if you please!" McGonagall barked, and Draco rolled his eyes, trudging up the aisle and stopping before her desk, where she frowned at him.

"Yes, Professor?" Malfoy asked sullenly.

"First, fix your necktie," McGonagall told him, and Draco scowled, but complied. "Second, I will ask you to give me that badge you're wearing. It's against uniform policy, and if I see another in my classroom again, I shall put you in detention."

Draco rolled his eyes and yanked the badge from his shirt, handing it over. "Anything else?" he asked.

McGonagall lifted her chin, looking angrier. "As a matter of fact, yes, Mr. Malfoy," she said irritably. "I didn't notice that you were particularly attentive today. I think you'll be spending this evening in detention, just to ensure that you've got the right attitude about your studies."

"That's not fair," Draco said. "I've got stuff—"

"I think it's extremely fair. You waste my teaching time, I'll take up your free time," McGonagall snapped. "Perhaps you ought to have thought of your pressing matters before stepping into this quagmire of rule-breaking. Now, is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco scowled. "No, Professor."

"Very good," McGonagall said, tossing the _POTTER STINKS_ badge into her rubbish bin. Draco stalked out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Methinks this is going to be the story I update whenever I feel like it hahaha. (Don't worry, I won't leave it dangling).<p>

GO MCGONAGALL.

I'm so mean to Malfoy. I really am a Gryffindor. BUT HE'S A GREASY GIT. Ron agrees with me.

hehehehe


	4. Angry: Luna Lovegood

29 January 1995 – Angry

Luna sat in the library, books spread out before her on the table. She was not focusing well. She couldn't quite believe it, but it seemed that she had just had a lesson she did not like. She rested her chin on her hand, frowning.

"Hi, Luna."

"Oh, hello, Ginny," Luna said, smiling as Ginny Weasley sat down with her. "How are you?" Ginny was an uncommonly kind person, even when others weren't; Luna had observed this over the last two years.

"I'm all right, thanks. Everything okay? You looked a little worried," said Ginny.

Luna frowned again, folding her hands beneath her chin and looking seriously at Ginny. "What did you think of Defense Against the Dark Arts today?" she asked.

Ginny blinked. "Er—I don't know. It was all right," she said. "I'm not particularly fond of those curses he was telling us about. I don't really want to learn anything more about the ways my entrails can get expelled," she said with a little laugh.

Luna smiled. "I'm sorry," she said. "I think I meant…well, what do you think of Professor Moody?"

"Oh," Ginny said, a little surprised. "He's all right. I really liked Professor Lupin, you know? He just did everything right, and it was like…he was just normal. What a teacher should be. And Moody, well—he's different, but…I dunno," she finished, looking a little embarrassed.

"I think I know what you mean," Luna said. "There's something a little off about him, don't you think?"

Ginny shrugged. "I've heard he's usually pretty odd. Maybe we're just not used to him."

"Would you ladies like to finish your discussion _outside_?" snarled Madam Pince angrily. She hunched over the table, glaring between Luna and Ginny.

"We're very sorry, Madam Pince," Luna said honestly, starting to close her books. "We'll just—"

Madam Pince straightened, watching Luna. "That was your warning, Miss Lovegood," she snapped, and she stalked off.

Luna smiled. She would never understand why some people hated Madam Pince. All she needed was kindness and respect for her rules, and she could be very pleasant indeed.

"How do you do that?" Ginny asked in a low voice.

Luna just shrugged and turned back to her work. Before long, though, her thoughts were wandering again. Ever since Harry Potter had been chosen as the fourth Triwizard champion, Luna had had a growing feeling that things were not all quite as they seemed this year at Hogwarts.

She looked at Ginny, who was skimming Newt Scamander's _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Luna wondered if anyone else in the school was being as foolish as she. She mentally shook herself. There was no reason to dislike Professor Moody. If there was one thing Luna excelled at, it was reaching out to people. Perhaps Professor Moody was aggressive because he desperately wanted the attention of his students.

The irony of this thought was not lost on Luna, come the twenty-fourth of June, and all the rumors surrounding it.

* * *

><p>OHMYLORD THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I REMOVE MY SELF-CONTROL FROM UPDATING A STORY.<p>

The title change is temporary, because what could Luna hate? NOTHING. That's the answer. I had a lot of caffeine, I'm sorry.


	5. Bibliophobia: Angelina Johnson

2 September 1995 – Bibliophobia

"I'm so tired of studying," George moaned. Alicia rolled her eyes and grinned at Angelina. "I'm serious!" George insisted. "I'm on the verge of developing a severe phobia of these books."

Angelina snorted. "It's the first day of school," she told him. "And be quiet. Madam Pince is going to swoop down any second."

"Don't tell me you're still scared of her?" Fred asked. Angelina glared at him. "That was ages ago!"

"Tell that to the ink I'm still washing out of my hair," Angelina hissed, as Fred and George both burst into laughter.

Alicia, clearly trying to keep a straight face, patted Angelina's back. "She did have a pretty good reason, Ange," she said.

"Whose side are you on?" Angelina demanded.

George cleared his throat, and they all dropped their heads, looking busy as Madam Pince passed their table, eyes narrowed. When she'd disappeared, Fred got up quietly, tiptoeing to the shelves. He trotted back to the table, nodding confidently.

"She's gone."

"I can't stand her," Angelina grumbled.

"You just got off on the wrong foot," Alicia said.

"You can't get off on a wrong-er foot with old Pincers than starting a screaming match in the library," George observed.

"At age twelve," Fred put in.

"I didn't scream at Oliver," Angelina whispered. "We were just having a normal conversation about how he was an idiot—no offense, Alicia—for not vouching for me at tryouts, when—"

"Miss Johnson."

Angelina whirled around, her heart pounding—but Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. She looked back to see Fred and George shaking with laughter, holding each other for support.

"That's enough, guys," Alicia said softly, patting Angelina's back. "Don't be mean. Ange can't help it if Madam Pince scares the living daylights out of her…"

"Not you, too!" Angelina exclaimed, and Alicia grinned at her. Giving in at last, Angelina shook her head and smiled. "We just don't…see eye-to-eye."

"About whether or not you can scream in the library?" Fred asked incredulously. "Got that right." Angelina threw a bit of parchment at him.

"Apart from Snape, she's really the only teacher—er—adult—at Hogwarts I don't like," she insisted, and George grinned.

"Wait'll you have Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The seventh-years looked around. Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati were sitting at a nearby table, looking glum.

"Why?" Angelina asked.

"We just had ours," Lavender sighed. "Umbridge is a piece of work."

"She's a piece of something," Seamus muttered darkly.

Fred grinned. "Nothing we can't handle," he said, but Dean shook his head.

"She just gave Harry detention for a week for no reason," he said. "You want to find someone you really don't like at Hogwarts? Go to class tomorrow."

Angelina spluttered. "Detention for a week? _Harry_?" she demanded.

"Er—yeah—he—" Parvati stammered, but Angelina wasn't listening. She stuffed her books away and stormed from the library to find Harry Potter. She didn't even hear Madam Pince yelling at her to stop making so much noise.

* * *

><p>So...yes, Madam Pince is a teacher, but...well, deal. XD<p> 


	6. Gobstones: Dennis Creevey

7 November 1995 – Gobstones

"Dennis! Dennis, wake up!"

"Ow, Jim—what are you doing? What's wrong?" Dennis groaned, sitting up. Jimmy Peakes looked positively beside himself with anger as he stood at the end of Dennis's bed.

"What's wrong?" he repeated furiously. "I'll tell you what's wrong! Umbridge just banned all student clubs and organizations!"

"What?" Dennis asked blearily, stumbling from bed and looking for his clothes, only half-awake.

"Dennis!" Jimmy cried, irritated. "This is serious, will you pay attention?"

"I am," Dennis said indignantly, putting on his socks inside out.

"Umbridge banned all clubs, teams, and organizations," Jimmy repeated, exasperated. "No more Quidditch, no more Gobstones, no more anything! No more Gobstones Club, Dennis!" Jimmy cried.

But Dennis's brain was screeching to a halt, and he didn't hear Jimmy's anguish over their beloved Gobstones Club. Why would Umbridge have tried to disband teams? Did she have a grudge against Quidditch? Not too likely, he reasoned, for Quidditch would make everything at Hogwarts seem normal. Maybe she—

Dennis froze for a moment, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Dennis, I'm serious! We've got to go this afternoon and petition, we can't—Dennis, are you listening? Dennis, this is Gobstones we're talking about—"

Dennis shoved past Jimmy, yanking on his robes hurriedly. He raced out of the second-year boys' dormitory and skidded to a halt before the common room bulletin board.

There it was, in black and white. Dennis felt his insides boiling with anger. How did she find out? How did she find out about Harry's group? Dennis thought. It was the only logical reason for this idiotic decree.

"So, we'll go to her, right?" Jimmy asked, coming up behind him. "We'll get her to reform the club? There's no way she can't, it's been around forever, they'd never let her—"

Dennis turned around slowly, his expression hard. "She can't do this. She can't stop us," he said fiercely, not truly listening to Jimmy.

"Er—Dennis? We're still talking about—about Gobstones, right?" Jimmy asked nervously, frowning worriedly at him. "I—It'll be okay, don't get too upset. We'll talk to Rose and the others—it'll be fine, no problem," he said. "I was just angry at Umbridge—"

"I hate her," Dennis growled. He clenched his hand, which bore the marks of a recent detention with Professor Umbridge. _I will not speak out_. "I hate her," he said, a little more loudly, and Jimmy blinked.

"Hey," he said. "It's okay, Dennis."

And suddenly, Dennis was shaken back to reality. He was aware that Jimmy had been worrying about Gobstones, and that he, Dennis, had not been listening. He gave Jimmy a smile. "Sure it will," he said. "No problem. She'll have to let us rejoin. Let's get to the Great Hall so we can talk to Rose."

When Dennis arrived in the Great Hall, the first place he looked was to Umbridge's seat on the staff table. His lip curled, and he swore that no matter what, Dumbledore's Army wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

><p>Yay for no self-control. Again. XD<p> 


	7. Hedwig: Katie Bell

10 November 1995 – Hedwig

"Come in."

Katie opened the door of Professor Grubbly-Plank's tiny office nervously, biting her lip.

"Miss Bell, did you need something?" Professor Grubbly-Plank asked from the desk, looking over her spectacles.

"I wanted to ask about my essay, Professor," she said anxiously.

"Ah," said Professor Grubbly-Plank sternly, setting down the parchment she held. "Not your best work."

"Not exactly," Katie said.

"Well, you didn't get into N.E.W.T.-level Care of Magical Creatures without good reason," Professor Grubbly-Plank told her. "Come in my little broom cupboard. We'll have a chat."

Entering the office, Katie caught sight of a large cage, which held two snowy owls, sleeping soundly.

"Professor," Katie said slowly, coming close and frowning at the smaller one. "Isn't that—?"

"Potter's owl," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, nodding to the cage. "She was injured during a flight, I've been looking after her."

"Oh, poor Hedwig," Katie cooed softly.

Professor Grubbly-Plank smiled. "She'll be all right. She's been getting to know my old friend Galileo. He's an elderly little fellow, but they like each other. Come sit, Bell."

"Right, sorry," Katie said hurriedly, sitting down in the chair across from the desk, reaching into her bag for her latest Care of Magical Creatures essay. "I can't say I disagree with the Dreadful, but I wanted to talk about it. See if I can…make it up, maybe."

"Absolutely." Professor Grubbly-Plank took the essay and peered closely at it through her spectacles. Silence fell for several minutes, punctuated here and there by the occasional nod or grunt from Professor Grubbly-Plank. She picked up a quill and made an additional mark before finally laying down the parchment and looking seriously at Katie.

"Miss Bell, I have to ask you something," she said. Katie nodded anxiously. "Are you frightened of unicorns?"

Katie blanched.

"Because," continued Professor Grubbly-Plank, brandishing the parchment, "the main problem with this essay is a severe lack of detail and information. The general facts are correct."

"Er," Katie said slowly, looking away from her. "They…they sort of…okay, _yes_," she said desperately. "I'm terrified of their horns! I know they're supposed to be gentle, but they scare me to death!"

Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded, but thankfully did not laugh. She rolled up Katie's essay and returned it. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything about this paper for you. However," she said, when Katie's face fell, "It's only the second of the term. Since we'll be covering unicorns for a while yet, I recommend you get some assistance—your friend Leanne is very good with the creatures."

Katie nodded, putting away her essay dejectedly, and got up to leave.

"Oh, Miss Bell," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, and Katie turned, her hand on the door. "You might try Seamus Finnigan. I'll never understand why, but he has something of a gift with unicorns, too."

"Oh," Katie said, biting the inside of her cheek hard and fighting furiously to keep a straight face. "Thank you, Professor. I'll ask him about that." She barely escaped the office before collapsing into helpless laughter.

* * *

><p>Part VII and VIII go together XD (same day)...at least, that's my excuse...<p> 


	8. Promptly: Seamus Finnigan

10 November 1995 – Promptly

"How is it that you always manage to blow something up, Seamus?" Parvati asked sympathetically, as Dean roared with laughter, hanging onto Lavender for support. They were leaving Charms, their last class of the day.

"Shut up, Dean," Seamus said, reaching behind him and punching Dean's shoulder. "Ah, thanks, Parvati," he said, accepting the handkerchief she offered him to wipe the ash from his face. "I dunno, it just keeps happening," he told her.

"It's happened at least once a year since we were eleven," Lavender told him, as Dean continued to giggle. "Y'know, I think you might've hit Dean a little harder than you thought with that Cheering Charm," she added, adjusting Dean's weight on her shoulder.

At last, Dean spoke. "I'm fine," he laughed wheezily, waving his hand. "I just never thought reviewing for O.W.L.s could be so much fun!"

Seamus punched him again.

"You're sure you're all right, Seamus?" asked Parvati. "You didn't hurt yourself?"

"No worse than usual," Seamus shrugged as Dean reached forward and mussed his slightly charred bangs, sprinkling ash over the threshold of the Great Hall.

"Charming," Parvati laughed, yanking her robes out of the way.

"Let's sit," Dean said, pointing to an empty space along the Gryffindor table. Lavender and Parvati split off, and sat down opposite Dean and Seamus.

"I'm starving," Dean groaned, reaching for the potatoes as they sat down. "Seamus, pass me the rolls—Seamus. _Seamus_."

"Hey, Katie," Seamus said, grinning at Katie Bell as she walked down the table. He turned in his seat and leaned back against the table, grinning up at her. Seamus ran a hand through his ashy hair, which shed copiously onto the mouthful of potatoes on Dean's fork.

"Seamus," Katie said curtly, not looking at him but continuing down the aisle.

"Hey!" Seamus called, frowning. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, turning back and facing him, looking exasperated. "Did you need something?"

Seamus shrugged and leaned back on his elbows again, grinning at her. "Just wanted to say hello, see how you are, if there's anything you…y'know…needed," he said casually, shrugging. Dean sniggered, and Seamus elbowed him.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Hi, I'm fine," she said shortly. "Are we done?"

"Sorry, Katie-bell," Seamus said nonchalantly. "Didn't mean to upset you." Katie nodded and started to leave. Parvati and Lavender giggled. "You look good, Bell!" Seamus called, and Dean choked into his pumpkin juice.

Katie turned on her heel, narrowing her eyes and leaning over between Seamus and Dean, her face just inches from Seamus's. "There is something you can do for me, Finnigan."

"Name it, madam," Seamus said, grinning confidently.

"I hear you're good with unicorns," Katie said. "Professor Grubbly-Plank said you had a _real gift_ with them. Would you mind helping me with a bit of homework?" she asked sarcastically, as Parvati, Lavender, and Dean promptly burst into laughter. Katie stalked off.

Seamus flushed bright red and turned back to the table.

"Smooth," Dean laughed, as tears of mirth poured down his face.


	9. Ditch: Susan Bones

11 May 1996 – Ditch

"Maybe I should just ditch Herbology," Susan said, staring out the high windows of the Great Hall. The skies outside promised a huge storm. "I'll never pass the O.W.L. anyway."

"Don't say that," Hannah told her reassuringly. "You'll pass it just fine. Then _you_ can decide if you want to take it next year or not."

"Not," Susan said grouchily, returning to her cereal.

"I don't think you're as bad as you say, Susan," said Justin, leaning across the table for a piece of toast. "You're awfully smart, and you write good essays—"

"I can do the essays because all I need is a book," Susan told him. "I can barely keep those plants alive for a lesson, let alone during an exam."

Hannah bit her lip. "Well, you do have a bit of trouble dealing with the Venomous Tentacula…and the Snargaluffs…"

"And Mandrakes. And honking daffodils. _And_ regular daffodils," Susan continued. "I'm a menace. I told Professor Sprout in career counseling last week that I didn't think I'd be able to keep taking Herbology after this year—_Professor Sprout_, mind you—and she actually agreed with me. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so upset about the future."

Hannah snorted, and Ernie laughed. "But you really are good at a lot of other things, though, Susan," Hannah insisted. "You're amazing at Transfiguration—you're barely behind Hermione Granger."

Susan looked down, blushing. "I'm not that good," she insisted, though she smiled as she said it.

"You're the only reason I'm going to scrape an A on the O.W.L.," Justin told her. "It'll be a miracle."

Susan smiled. "What'll be a miracle is if I don't kill someone—myself included—during the Herbology practical."

"Look at the bright side," Ernie told her. "Maybe Umbridge will insist upon observing all the exams herself, and you'll get her for Herbology."

Justin, Susan, and Hannah all laughed, glancing over their shoulders anxiously to be sure they hadn't been overheard.

"Oh, Ernie, that's dreadful," Susan said, shaking her head as she wiped tears of laughter from her face.

"What's dreadful is the way she treats us all," Hannah said, and the others fell silent. "Last week, Neville Longbottom had his hand cut open in detention—she's been using blood quills."

"Those are illegal," Ernie said, shocked. "How can she—"

"How can she say that Cedric's death was an accident?" Susan said darkly. She could see in the others' faces that they, too, were thinking of the night of the third task of the Triwizard tournament.

Ernie put an arm around Hannah, and she patted his hand. Susan felt a twinge of jealousy, but pushed it away.

"Well, Susan, you may be rubbish at Herbology," Justin said, clearly trying to lighten the mood and patting her back, "But at least Sprout's not going to attack you with a cursed quill."

Susan gave a half-hearted laugh. "We should get to Herbology. I'm sure there's some plant in the greenhouse I haven't traumatized yet."

* * *

><p>MORE! XD<p>

I'll post the last one later hehe.


	10. Zenith: Ron Weasley

22 December 1996 – Zenith

"Wait—wait, wait, I've got one," Harry wheezed, breathless with laughter. Ron tossed him three Chocolate Frogs, and Harry caught them, putting on a misty voice. "Ah, I see grave portents in your future, Mr. Weasley!" he cried dramatically, and Ron burst out laughing, falling backwards on his bed.

Harry got up on his knees on his cot, widening his eyes and raising his volume. "In your future…the not-too-distant future, Mr. Weasley! Alas! When Uranus aligns with the moon—"

Ron snorted.

"—When this ominous portal reaches its zenith!'" Harry cried, his tone rising. "'You will be devoured by—by—'" he gave a gasp. "'By the dreaded Face-Eating Lavender Blossom! No! Say it isn't so!'"

Ron gaped at him, still laughing. "I'll get you for that one," he said. Harry collapsed backward, hysterical from laughing, and ate the head of one of his Chocolate Frogs.

He looked over at Ron, feeling exceptionally giddy. It was a few days before Christmas, and even though Hermione wasn't with them, he was still happy to be on holiday at the Burrow.

"Your turn," said Harry, grinning.

Ron laughed. "Okay," he said, clearing his throat. "Harry," he cried in his best Professor Trelawney impression, looking horrified. "Harry! Oh, Harry!"

"D'you two mind?" Ginny stood in the bedroom doorway.

Harry leapt backwards, yanked his blankets up and tumbled off his bed. Ron roared with laughter.

"You idiots are so loud we can hear you two floors down, Phlegm's having a cow," Ginny informed them over the din. "Mum's about to come up here and kill you both because she won't stop grouching about the noise."

Harry, now wrapped securely in his blanket and blushing bright red, climbed back up onto his bed. "Right, Ginny," he said soberly, nodding. "Sorry."

Ginny shook her head and rolled her eyes, reaching onto Ron's bed for a Chocolate Frog.

"Oi!" Ron cried, pelting her with a twisted-up wrapper, but she ignored him.

"You're both so much quieter when Hermione's here," Ginny said longingly. She grinned at Harry, but Ron scowled. Ginny reached for the doorknob, starting to leave, when she looked back at them both, her eyes wide. "And you'd best be careful, gentlemen," she said in a misty voice. "I see in your future a very angry veela—who's had _no beauty sleep!_"

She snapped the door shut as Harry and Ron dissolved into helpless laughter for a very long time.

"Ah, Trelawney," said Ron fondly. "I miss that old bat."

Harry laughed.

"She was right a couple of times though, eh?" Ron said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and sitting up. "Every now and then—oh."

Harry caught his breath, leaning against the wall where his camp bed sat. "Yeah," he said, his smile fading slightly. "She was." He and Ron locked eyes. "Er—Ron—"

"Bung us a Frog," Ron said, lying back on his bright orange bedspread again.

Harry grinned and tossed him one, tearing open his own with his teeth.

* * *

><p>See? Ron hates Divination because of what it means for his best friend...aww...*snuffle*<p>

This was fun, guys! Thanks for reading! XD

*Shameless self-promotion* Check out my new story, "The Second Pair." I'd love to hear from you! It's my first time ever writing Founders-Era. Also, I've got ONE space left in the Clue Prank Competition (see my profile for the link!)

Love you all madly. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything!

Lucy


End file.
